This part is not so much fun...

This is the bit I have been dreading, this is the part that fills me with fear and anxiety. This is the bit when I tell myself that this was all a terrible idea, this is the bit when I want to run away.

I know I am over reacting and being a tad melodramatic (which is something I am very capable at, I know), but I don't like this bit. He is sick. We're all sick, actually. But him being sick is where I feel the most helpless. It's only a cold; it's only a bit of a dry cough, and a stuffy nose, and a little bit of crankiness. It's only saline drops and bulb suctioning, but I hate it. He gets so upset, and wails and wails. Poor wee man.

Of course, I have visions of being admitted with dehydration, pneumonia, or RSV (or both) running thru my head. That and being a helpless Nelly-girl parent freaking out and in need of hand-holding. But hey, there it is. Visions of respiratory isolation and oxygen requirements.

Of course none of his current symptoms indicate that any of these things are necessary or in play. In reality all he has is a stuffy nose which needs sucking out before he feeds so he can breathe clearly, and some additional time to feed. So far, it's really a cake walk. He isn't dehydrated, he isn't in respiratory distress, or showing any other negative findings (BBS = CTA, + Upper Respiratory congestion, RR 40 @ rest, HHR +/- 110 @ rest, CRT < / = 3 sec, Mucous membranes; moist/pink). Which does make me feel better, I guess.

I know that they get sick, I had just hoped it wouldn't be until he was 12 or so. I guess my feeling like crap just compounds things. Ugh.

We all have it. Daddy, Abba, Jacob & even Bo-Bo. He was supposed to have his 3 month vaccinations today, but we'll push that forward to Tuesday. Hopefully we'll all be feeling more up to it by then.

No One Told Me This Part

I've become a bit of a day-time television watcher over the past 6 weeks that we have been home in New Zealand, and that I have spent being home with Jacob. Usually there is very little that grabs my attention; "Dr. Phil", "Oprah", and the soaps get an instant channel change. But I have found myself drawn to those show that are either New Zealand or Australian made; possibly for the accent, or the socialization, I'm not quite sure.

Today I landed on "Backyard Blitz" an Australian made show that features backyard make-overs for deserving Aussies. Today, the recipient was a big bear of a bloke called Carlos who rescued a small boy from a burning building.

Carlos and his family were whisked off to the Uluru while the transformation took place. What had been a pretty ho-hum back yard became an escape with paving, grass, and a beautifully placed BBQ area.

The plant choices were explained, the building demonstrated, and the progress presented with lots of fun skit-like pieces. Then the family came home.

Carlos is a really big guy. He and his family were welcomed with applause from the neighbours, and then ushered into their new yard for the reveal.

"You've Got Love, Love, Love on Your Side"

Life has its ups and downs and throwing (or perhaps "gently placing" is more correct) a small child in the mix does rather change things. I've never been one to celebrate Valentines Day; seeing it for what it is; the single biggest "Hallmark" holiday there is, cloaked – as it is - in Catholic Saints day clothing.

However, last night my husband brought home something I never thought I'd be more thrilled to see; those yummy crunchy little heart candies with the cutesy hard to read messages on them. I suddenly realized horror of horrors; I was missing the U.S., and even to a certain extent the hullabaloo that is V. Day.

So, to everyone home in the U.S. I say this...It's not about bunches of roses and bottles of wine. It’s not about your having a husband, a wife, a boy or girlfriend (or even a f**k buddy), to share the overpriced dinner and flowers with the inflated price tag with. It's about the small hard to read candies, and the yummy chocolate objects we stuff into our mouths that make us realize that even when it feels like life is really hard and things are difficult Love Conquers All. The Romans were right!

So, I urge you to follow my example. Even though you might be wondering if you may have put the baby in the microwave and the dinner in the crib, and you now find yourself relying on your sense of smell to tell if something is clean or not, get out there and eat something small, crunchy, ganache-filled and yummy! Do it for me, do it for love.

(extra credit will be applied for those who can name the source of the tag line)

Hard to Imagine

The images and stories from the Australian fires are absolutely horrific. Three hundred people have died, including a number of children. There seems to be a huge amount of confusion as to the instructions given to people about evacuation, and this seems to have resulted in tragic results.

It's all beyond imagination; the bush is tinder dry and the dry winds are whipping across the mountains and catching people before they have time to get to safety. I heard a quote that the usual grass fire travels at about 40 km/hr, but that these fires are traveling in excess of 100 km/hr.

We had rain all day yesterday here in Auckland. It fell in a continual fine mist for most of the day, and this morning there is a moist humidity hanging over us. The trees are glossy and a rich deep clean green. The cicadas are singing at an almost deafening level, and the birds seem to be gorging on the many flying bugs that are on the wing today. It feels like a world away from the fires.

Last night the sky had a strange purple blush colour, possibly due to the high-atmosphere smoke that has crossed the Tasman from Australia, I guess. I can't imagine what it must be like for the fire victims, to have lost everything, to have lost even their lives. I used to live in Melbourne, and so can only feel a deeper connection to what is happening across Victoria. Let's pray for rain, and hope that the death toll is lower than feared.

My New Favorite Show

We have forgone television for the last 3 or so years in L.A. It was nice not being in the constant grip of the T.V. and everything that goes with it in daily life. I'd become so sick of the morning after workplace conversations about Idol, Lost, Greys and the like that it was a wonderful relief to just respond "We don't have T.V."

We had kept the DVD and the television itself, just cut our cable subscription and never bothered to invest in an antenna. Netflix and having an phenomenal independent video store a short walk from the apartment in L.A. made it easy to be entertained and yet free of the constant commercialism and culturally-devoid mind-sapping dullness.

So now we are here in Aotearoa, living the good life, raising our kid, and watching T.V. There are far fewer channels here, and very little that is actually compelling or worth making a date with oneself to watch. Well, that is what I thought.

Maori Television is a relatively new venture (well, it is new to me, the twenty year absentee). It has been a great way to play Sociologist and have a look at how the minority communities are representing themselves on the tube. There are programs to help learn Te Reo - the language - and others to look at news and current events from the Maori perspective. And then there is Marae D.I.Y..

I have always been partial to home improvement shows, and this takes that concept and applies it to different Marae across Aotearoa. The crew are smart, funny, and really seem to love what they are doing. The recipients are small, rundown, and oft times dilapidated Marae that are given a makeover to make anything on the House and Garden channel take notice.

The crew arrive and whisk the Kuia away so that the marae whanau can work their magic. I love watching the little old ladies relaxing at the spa, having their hair done, and being treated like royalty. People come from far and wide to help with the projects which transform the forlorn looking little buildings into beautiful, proud, mana filled, places of community gathering. Walls are painted, fences are built, gardens planted.

I find myself welling up as the final reveal is made. The Kuia, dressed to the nines with quoffed hair and sparkling eyes are welcomed on to the Marae with all the ceremony and required ritual. They stand together with the presenters listening to the songs and orations of welcome with such obvious pride and emotion. It is something amazing to watch. The whanau are so proud of their accomplishment and filled with an obvious sense of having done something incredibly important and worthwhile. They know that they reach not only back to their ancestors but forward to their mokopuna.

So, Sunday afternoons are more often than not finding me making a date to be on the couch from 3 'til 4 tuned in to something that I think is really special. If you can, I really suggest you do, too.

Lost Generation

amazing!